Horror House
by Johnnycake
Summary: Sora and Riku are trapped in a basement, fettered to the wall. But, this is no kinky party.[M for Char. Death and gruesomeness] [No romance]


Lolol, for a school project. My teacher was none too pleased with me. xD

Oneshot, two original characters who don't make an appearance. Inspired by the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The long-haired captor is Yazoo, the man at the end is Loz.

Bolded words were my vocab words that week.

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Sora and Riku sat alone in the dark cellar. Wrists cuffed and chained to the wall, they couldn't move much. The **antiquity** of the cellar was evident from the mold upon the stone walls and the smell of mildew. The memories of horrendous deeds done long ago were present in the form of a sickening smell; the smell of rotting flesh and spoiling blood. Sora looked to his right. Riku sat slumped against the dirty wall, chained wrists resting on either side of him. His breathing was uneven and every so often he let out a soft groan. After being tackled to the wall, their silver-haired captor had stepped on Riku's chest, breaking his ribs. The crack of Riku's ribs and the sound of his scream still echoed in Sora's mind, as fresh as the moment those sounds echoed through the dusty, dark hallway of the house's second floor.  
Sora thought back on the events of the day with **incredulity**. It seemed like only this morning that he, his brother, Riku, and the girls were packing up the van for their little weekend road trip. Roxas, Sora's twin, was traipsing around the van **jauntily**, impersonating their uncle before they left. Roxas was always funny. Their mother was observing their behavior with **askance**, telling Roxas that he should have respect for his only uncle. Riku's little sister Aspen, his family's little black sheep [or a **pariah**, as she liked to call herself, was being made to tag along. Neither she nor Riku nor anyone else seemed to complain; she wasn't antisocial, just different. In looks, at least, so Riku's family found her rather abnormal. Roxas' girlfriend Francine was buzzing around the van. She was a **fervent** traveler, and she wanted to make sure that they had everything they needed and that everything was packed. Francine loved going places. Traveling was her passion.

Sora's thoughts were interrupted as he heard footsteps from the staircase on the far side of the room, the sound of them coming closer to the bottom step, echoing about the cellar like a **crescendo** of imminent doom. Finally at the bottom step, Sora and Riku's silver-haired captor stood, hair glinting in the light that shone down upon him from the open door above. He stood there for a moment, his presence ominous, like an angel of death. He flicked on the dim cellar light and started toward the boys in a condescending manner. Sora whimpered.

"The little girl will serve as a fine **repast** for father." He said, smirking down at Sora who looked up at him, wide-eyed. He meant Aspen…she had gone off alone.

"As for you two…we will save you for another day." Riku groaned, turning his head to face Sora and their captor. The man knelt over Riku's lap, taking Riku's face in his hands. He moved his hands so that his left hand grasped the side of Riku's face and his right hand reached around the back of Riku's head, curling his fingers to grasp at Riku's left ear. He steadied himself, and then pulled his right hand to his right and his left hand to his left as hard as he could, turning Riku's head with the motion and snapping his neck with a sickening crack. There was no more sound or movement from Riku aside from his head lolling to his right to stare Sora with dull, lifeless eyes.  
Sora let out a mournful wail as the man stood to his feet, wiping off his pants.

"I will send my brother down to finish you later. Play nice with your friend, until then." He smiled at Sora with a wicked, twisted smile. He turned and flipped his hair over his shoulder in a rather feminine way before disappearing back up the stairs.  
Sora looked to Riku sitting limp and lifeless on the cellar floor.

"Riku…" he whispered. "Riku, wake up…" he reached over, chains making a jingling sound as he shook Riku's shoulder. Riku fell over. His head landed in Sora's lap, staring up at him blankly, lips parted slightly. Sora shrieked and resisted the urge to push his friend's body away and curl up in the corner. This situation was hardly **impartial**. He looked up at the ceiling as he heard screaming in the house above. Francine. There was a loud thud and the screaming stopped abruptly, followed by a sob. It was Roxas. Did they kill Francine…?  
Sora looked down at Riku, putting a hand on his cheek. It was cold. His face was ashen. A **mélange** of emotions and thoughts bombarded him. Would he ever get out of here? Was he going to die? Where was Aspen? Was Francine really dead? He was jolted from his thoughts by the sound of a chainsaw, the sound of screaming almost drowned out. They were killing Roxas. Trembling, Sora sat Riku's body upright. He listened until the buzzing of the chainsaw stopped and all was silent for a few minutes. He watched the stairs, stared at them, until he heard those ominous footsteps again; this time heavier. This was not the long-haired man. This man had shorted hair, his face hidden under a grotesque mask. A bloodied apron still damp with blood covers the front of his dirty jeans and simple black long-sleeved shirt. His build looks physically fit, muscular and dangerous. Grasped in his hand was an axe. Just a regular, wood-handled axe. He started toward Sora slowly, silently. He stopped right in front of the cowering teen. The man sniffed. He sniffed, as if he had been crying.

"I don't wanna." He said, and raised the axe above his head. "But they're making me." He brought the axe down with a thunk. Sora screamed as the man lodged the axe's blade into his left shoulder, hacking at his arm. Sora's body shook and burned with every blow, his cries of pain becoming hoarse with each passing moment. The pain was immense; unimaginable. It felt almost unreal, and yet so undeniably, painfully actual. He kept trying to move away, but each time he moved his killer accidentally hit a different place: Splitting his left knee. Severing his right arm. Slicing his right thigh. Black spots dotted his vision as tears fell from his eyes, mixing with the blood on his cheeks. He was going to die here. As the final blow was struck, Sora put the rest of his strength into the loudest, saddest scream he could muster. He screamed in anger, in pain. In mourning, for Riku. For Aspen, Francine, and Roxas. When the man finally stopped hacking away at him and the sweet relief of death began to overtake him, he heard the man give a remorseful sob.

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And my teacher keeps harping on me to write happier stories. D:

Well, that was short but I hoped that you'd enjoy it. More vocabs to come.


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